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entrancelogs2013-06-18 09:26 pm
laevisilaufeyson) wrote in entrancelogs2013-06-18 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
good morning, mr. magpie -- how are we today? [CLOSED]
Who: Loki Laufeyson, Aramis
Where: Gardens
When: Following the shadow event, early morning
Rating: PG-13 to be safe, probably nothing terribly shocking
Summary: When a man strays in the desert, it won't be long before the devil finds him.
The Story: Following the game of doubles, Loki expects all the residents of the mansion are on edge. Even he feels uneasy, the sign of a clever play but not comfortable all the same. Though he appreciates it in principle, appreciates the wit in it, how elegantly it exposed all of them down to their most tender cores, made them weak and exploitable – though he appreciates it he feels a need nonetheless to compensate. To reassert his own power. It wouldn’t have to be difficult or complex. The snap of bone echoes through his head, all across the facets of a fragmented mind so recently laid bare, but the easy option is so often distasteful, now as much as ever.
What would it serve, in the end, to drag them shrieking from the beds and tear them all apart? Little enough purpose, save to expose the callous fury which curls in his belly and stirs from time to time.
The sun won’t calm him; it is entirely too warm, and he entirely too tired of warmth in the first place. Where the monster would sink its teeth in it would find only the burning of human flesh, that improbable heat, still shocking, even now, after it all. Still, he finds his way out to the gardens in the early morning to take in the delicate frosts, and expects himself to be alone.
Expects, is surprised to find that he is not. A curious state of affairs. Not welcome. An affront, in truth, and though he can lay no true claim to this place he feels the man an intruder. Not an unfamiliar face, but not one he knows intimately, nor one, he thinks, he cares to know intimately – and so he leaves the man at his prayer, droll though it is, to wander with quiet steps over the grass. Perhaps when the man is finished, Loki will inquire as to his purpose, but not before. He is no stranger to the concept of respect, and whether or not he feels any is irrelevant. It is expected, and the Liesmith knows how to craft his masks. The ability to slip wholly into one, the shadow of honesty banished, is a faint relief.
Where: Gardens
When: Following the shadow event, early morning
Rating: PG-13 to be safe, probably nothing terribly shocking
Summary: When a man strays in the desert, it won't be long before the devil finds him.
The Story: Following the game of doubles, Loki expects all the residents of the mansion are on edge. Even he feels uneasy, the sign of a clever play but not comfortable all the same. Though he appreciates it in principle, appreciates the wit in it, how elegantly it exposed all of them down to their most tender cores, made them weak and exploitable – though he appreciates it he feels a need nonetheless to compensate. To reassert his own power. It wouldn’t have to be difficult or complex. The snap of bone echoes through his head, all across the facets of a fragmented mind so recently laid bare, but the easy option is so often distasteful, now as much as ever.
What would it serve, in the end, to drag them shrieking from the beds and tear them all apart? Little enough purpose, save to expose the callous fury which curls in his belly and stirs from time to time.
The sun won’t calm him; it is entirely too warm, and he entirely too tired of warmth in the first place. Where the monster would sink its teeth in it would find only the burning of human flesh, that improbable heat, still shocking, even now, after it all. Still, he finds his way out to the gardens in the early morning to take in the delicate frosts, and expects himself to be alone.
Expects, is surprised to find that he is not. A curious state of affairs. Not welcome. An affront, in truth, and though he can lay no true claim to this place he feels the man an intruder. Not an unfamiliar face, but not one he knows intimately, nor one, he thinks, he cares to know intimately – and so he leaves the man at his prayer, droll though it is, to wander with quiet steps over the grass. Perhaps when the man is finished, Loki will inquire as to his purpose, but not before. He is no stranger to the concept of respect, and whether or not he feels any is irrelevant. It is expected, and the Liesmith knows how to craft his masks. The ability to slip wholly into one, the shadow of honesty banished, is a faint relief.
no subject
"I was wishing you a good morning, actually. But if you find that unlikely, perhaps I can wish you a merely not unpleasant morning?"
no subject
They know better. This fellow certainly does. Fickle things are hungry things, things which take as much as they give, oft as not.
"In that light you intrigue me. I know not how to trust in what I cannot touch. Does that make you the fool, or I?"
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"You know, I suspect, that the ropes of faith cut deep. Perhaps you do not know that they cut as deeply into the wrists of those to whom you would be bound. Deeper still, in truth. Devotion is no kindness. I have always wondered -- you men of faith, when you make your morning prostrations, do you feel as though you are kissing the hand that feeds, or do you know that you are biting?"
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"Many names have I borne, but to your kind, always Loki -- and what you wrought in deifying us you may never know, but I speak true when I say it was no kindness."
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He gives a faint gesture of the head which seems to indicate he feels no particular way about the actual truth of those stories. "Before I became Loki Silvertongue I was naught but a babe. A princeling in a faraway realm. Make no mistake; the king of Asgard was, from the perspective of our people, always your liege, but then you kneeled."
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"The Allfather's arrogance took new shape. We began to come to you. Set ourselves up as deities. We became set in our ways, thinking ourselves superior -- and we were. We are. That I have watched thousands of you from birth to death is proof enough of that. You took our superiority and made it yours. Of a sudden we were made for you, to serve your purposes. Our responsibility was your keeping." Until they wanted it no longer. In truth Loki admires it, though it startled him, though he did not expect the degree of resistance he'd encountered on his last trip to Earth. He had been lead to think they were pliable and simple, and past experience had seemed to support it. In his long absence, he had forgotten, utterly forgotten how admirable they are as a species.
He has no greater desire to protect them than before, no more care for individuals, perhaps, but their ingenuity as a whole does still impress. They roped in gods, after all. They took vastly superior beings and made of them unknowing servants, which is perhaps the greatest trick of all.
no subject